


to dance

by yakyuu_yarou



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Post-Canon, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28503975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakyuu_yarou/pseuds/yakyuu_yarou
Summary: After the world was saved, there was a party. Every good party, this is known, has dances.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	to dance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a chatfic one day in the car because I have a lot of thoughts and emotions about Wilde & Hamid dancing and Proper Dancing and period-accurate dances and—  
> And I meant to expand it, but then never did because I’d long reached my fluff quota for the year. So! Have it as what it is.

“Hamid?”

Hamid didn‘t  _ need _ to look up from the wine in his near-untouched glass to recognise Oscar‘s voice; of course not. He did anyway, compelled, perhaps, by ingrained politeness — or maybe by the gentleness and soft uncertainty in his breathtakingly melodic voice.

“Yes, Oscar?” He smiled even as he craned his neck to meet Wilde‘s (beautiful) eyes, trying to let the fact that  _ they‘d won, they‘d  _ **_won_ ** shine through in his expression. They‘d done it, despite everything, and Oscar deserved the reminder. Always, but especially right now, at a party that was supposedly for all of them but that had so far neglected to acknowledge Oscar‘s contribution at all.

“... care to dance? I‘ve requested a Viennese.” Again, that hint of uncertainty, as if Oscar wasn‘t sure that Hamid might  _ want _ to, that he might want him included.

It was a new thing, this uncertainty, and Hamid hadn’t yet decided if he liked it more or less than Oscar’s old, now-lost habit of simply  _ assuming _ that he wasn’t wanted, was not to be involved in anything that constituted  _ the group. _

Really, there was only one answer.

Hamid set aside his glass — which he‘d been unlikely to finish anyway, concerned with the impression he was to make as one of the saviours of the world, apparently — and stood, placing his hand in Oscar‘s, politely offered as it was.

“It‘d be my pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading 💙


End file.
